


Two By Two

by mediumrawr



Category: Covert Affairs
Genre: BDSM, F/F, Femslash, Handcuffs, Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings, Role Reversal, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediumrawr/pseuds/mediumrawr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Now?" Annie asks, and Joan chooses to hear a note of discomfort in her voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Now," says Joan.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Annie sighs. Joan hears the indulgence, but she doesn't mind Annie's impetuousness, so long as she does what she's told in the end. She watches this beautiful young woman remove her jacket and her blouse, baring those strong arms, that toned gut... as the feeling overtakes her that the day's innumerate stresses have become meaningless, Joan exhales a rolling sigh.</em>
</p><p>Annie comes back from Russia, and everything between them changes.</p><p>Written for the Porn Battle XIV prompts: <em>kneel, rise</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Two By Two

**Author's Note:**

> Be aware that this story depicts a D/s relationship in a manner that is not totally idealized.

> ##### (1)

Joan brushes a hand against Annie's arm and thins her lips just so, so that Annie will catch it, and she sees Annie's eyes widen and her breath catch. Then - no, this is wrong - Annie's eyes go hard. She scowls, she says, "See you Monday, Joan," and she follows her more earthbound companions out of Joan's office.

Wrong, all wrong. Annie has been avoiding her invitations since she came back from Russia. That was weeks ago. They were good with each other once. The last time...

_Joan brushes a hand against Annie's arm and thins her lips just so, so that Annie will catch it, and she sees Annie's eyes go wide and her breath catch._

_She smiles. Her eyebrows rise._

_"Now?" Annie asks, and Joan chooses to hear a note of discomfort in her voice._

_"Now," says Joan._

_Annie sighs. Joan hears the indulgence, but she doesn't mind Annie's impetuousness, so long as she does what she's told in the end. She watches this beautiful young woman remove her jacket and her blouse, baring those strong arms, that toned gut... as the feeling overtakes her that the day's innumerate stresses have become meaningless, Joan exhales a rolling sigh._

_Her lover pauses with her hands on the clasp of her bra. She looks at Joan with a question._

_"I didn't say to stop," Joan says._

> ##### (2)

Joan taps her fingers as the phone rings. And then, finally, she hears a familiar voice on the line. It says, "Hello?"

"Annie," she says. "It's Joan."

There is a pause. "Did something come up at work?"

Joan's hand stops moving. She looks at it and she watches it clench. Her throat shrivels.

"Joan?"

"Annie," she says again. "I've decided-"

"Is this about work, Joan?"

With the weight of all the times she has lied to Annie, has withheld the truth or withheld her trust, she can't reply. The line goes dead.

Under her breath, she curses. The last time...

_Joan taps her fingers as the phone rings. And then, finally, she hears a familiar voice on the line. It says, "Hello?"_

_"Annie," she says. "It's Joan."_

_There is a pause. "God, Joan. I need-"_

_"I'm here, girl. Are you ready for me?"_

_There is a hitched breath. Joan lets her fingers rest under the band of her skirt. She leans back in her chair and waits for the response: "I'm ready, ma'am. I've been-"_

_"Get a little ahead of yourself, Annie?" Joan smiles despite herself. She can imagine Annie lying back, prepared just the way she had directed, increasingly agitated._

_"No - no, ma'am." Annie breathes. "It's this toy, it's-"_

_"Too much?" Joan asks. She gives it a small teasing note, but she knows Annie's smart enough to catch the prompt there. She trusts Annie's endurance, but - after an afternoon of relentless teasing with her favorite vibrator - even she worried that Annie might be too sensitive for their evening's activities._

_But Annie pulls through. "No. It's a lot, but it's good. It's - oh, God - ma'am - it's so good."_

_"Good," says Joan. She feels a swell of pride. "Put the phone on speaker so I can hear you, and fuck yourself with it."_

> ##### (3)

The door swings open and Annie is there. Her eyes widen when she sees Joan. "Joan," she says. "You shouldn't be here."

Wearing jeans and an old blouse and with her hair up, Annie has never looked so unlike herself, but, being Annie, she still looks exactly like herself. "What are you wearing?"

"I was cleaning."

She hesitates and tries not to show it. "Annie, we should at least talk."

"I don't think we have any thing to talk about, Joan. Go have dinner with your husband."

Joan absolutely, totally refuses to flinch - but she does freeze, and her eyes do widen, and she knows Annie sees it. "That's low," she says.

That woman, who she once thought would make an excellent protégé, scoffs. "Low is letting me believe we were friends, closer than friends, and letting me do everything for you, and be... and then lying to me, and not telling me..."

"I do regret that," says Joan.

Annie shakes her head. "Did you ever --?" she asks, and they both know the way that question ends without either of them having to speak it. They never have spoken it, and for Joan at least it was out of a need to maintain some emotional distance.

"That's a complicated question," Joan says. "Please, can I come in? So we can talk about it."

She is not sure what Annie sees that convinces her, but she steps aside and permits Joan to cross the threshhold. It does not feel like a victory. The last time...

_The door swings open and Annie is there. Her eyes widen when she sees Joan. "Joan," she says. You shouldn't be here."_

_Wearing a crisp jacket and a ruffled white blouse and precise dress pants, Annie has never looked so like herself. No one else could ever be Annie Walker._

_"I decide where I should be," Joan directs. When Annie perceives the signal and lowers her head, she feels a spark of victory. "Are you alone?"_

_"Yes, ma'am."_

_"Then let me in._ "

_She brushes past Annie even as Annie is beginning to step aside and waits for the sound of the door closing - and then she rounds on Annie in one heartbeat and pins her back against the door before the next. Her mouth latches onto the pulse point of this younger her's neck, sucking harshly, and she laughs into her when she receives a groan for her troubles._

_"Are you wet for me?" Joan slides her hand inside the waistband of Annie's trousers and against her panties to check, and, when that makes Annie gasp, she nuzzles into the underside of her jaw._

_She know that Annie is confused by the way Joan has been treating her lately. At work, Joan is cool to her; she withholds important information routinely and snaps at Annie whenever Annie dares to ask for help. And during these episodes of their ill-advised affair, she is hot; she is too demanding and too possessive and, though Annie has met her every demand, she can tell that the relationship underneath their dominance games is fraying._

_It is her fault. She can't break through herself to be what Annie needs. All she can manage is to hold Annie ever closer and demand ever more devotion, as if that will solve her problems._

_She realizes that she has stilled, and Annie is beginning to wonder, so she laughs meanly to cover herself and says, "For me." She pauses. "Show me what you'll do for me."_

_When Annie kneels and reaches for the band of her skirt, Joan forgets everything else. Right now, the totality - the perfection - of this moment is more important._

> ##### (4)

They sit opposite each other at the dining table of the big house Annie now has to herself. Annie's posture is stiff. Joan leads forward, an unfamiliar supplicant.

Her eyes flicker to Annie's wrists. She is struck by this beautiful woman who sits here with her. There have been moments when the hint of a shoulder-blade or an ankle above her boots has been enough to entrap Joan in a powerful fantasy.

She has reached the end of her story. She waits for her protégé to make her judgment.

Annie leaves her twisting for seconds and more seconds, and then reaches out just one arm to clasp Joan's hand.

"I didn't know about the pills," Annie says, "or... some of what was between you and Lena."

Joan nods.

"I wish you'd told me. I would have been there for you," Annie says, and the truth of it is actually painful. "I'm glad you're doing better now."

Joan begins to straighten. "I want to-"

"No."

She stops.

Annie tightens her grasp on the older woman's hands. She manages only an edge of sympathy in her voice. "I'm not the person who knelt for you anymore, Joan. And, honestly... I'm not sure you're the person I knelt for, either."

"I c-" Joan's voice cracks. "I could be," she manages, but she knows it sounds pleading.

"You know that's not how it works," Annie tells her.

Her composure on the edge of shattering, this strong woman gets to her feet. She straightens, takes a breath, and says, "Fine." It comes out weak. She tries again. "Fine. Then I think we're done."

Joan turns for the exit.

She takes a step.

"Joan," she hears.

She stops. She turns back.

"How badly do you want to be with me?" Annie pauses. Her head tilts in a half-familiar way. "Because... there is another way."

It takes Joan a moment to catch her meaning, to glance at the wood before Annie's feet, and then several more to consider the feeling it engenders.

The last time...

_They sit opposite each other at the dining table of the big house Annie now has to herself. Annie's posture is stiff. Joan leads forward, an unfamiliar supplicant._

_Her eyes flicker to Annie's wrists. She can see the first hints of red lines on them, where there will soon be bruises. It had been Annie's idea to add handcuffs to their game for the same reason Joan would never have suggested it - the way that Annie shies a hand's breadth away each time she sees them._

_Annie wanted to work through it. Annie thought Joan would be able to help her with it. So they tried._

_"Do you need more water?" Joan asks. When she is alone, she will look back on what happened today as a personal failure. For now, she tries to remain focused._

_"I'm fine," says Annie. There's a cold, wet rag for her wrists sitting next to them, untouched, on the table._

_She's not fine, Joan knows. "Would you like to talk about what happened?"_

_"Yes." Annie clutches her blanket a little more tightly around herself. "What happened today was... Look, we need to stop."_

_"We're done for today, Annie, you don't-"_

_"I think we should stop. I don't know if I can do this anymore."_

_Everything stops. Joan freezes in place. Annie, watching her, pauses. The physical weight of that statement could hold, she believes, the second hand of a clock in place._

_Annie rushes to explain. "It's not about the handcuffs really, Joan. It's about - when I had to use my safeword, for a second, I wasn't sure you were going to stop."_

_Joan stands. The chair clatters back. "I would always - you must know I would always - "_

_"Intellectually, I guess. But you... you obviously don't trust me, Joan. You don't tell me anything, you don't let me have input... How can I-"_

_"We shouldn't be having this conversation now," Joan decides. "We knew today was going to push some boundaries, and it didn't work out. That doesn't have to reflect on our - on this."_

_Annie gives her an angry look that Joan isn't used to receiving, but all she says is, "You're right."_

_The next time will be amazing, Joan decides. Maybe she can find a way to get them a whole weekend alone, teasing her to the brink of insanity and then driving her over the edge over and over again until there's no forgetting. They can start to put this all back together. As long as Lena doesn't interfere..._


End file.
